


oh shit, its them prompts! waddup

by banditchika



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditchika/pseuds/banditchika
Summary: Tumblr prompt fills. Pairings vary.





	1. nozoeli, nervous kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli's middle name is from wtfoctagon's fic, Best Star She's Ever Had, which is incredible and should be read Always
> 
> anyways most of these prompts are edited/extended versions of their tumblr counterparts, feat. typos that have been corrected and poor word choices that have been revised! ill be cross-posting them erratically, but ill get all those prompts in one place..... eventually

Their first kiss had been weirdly, bizarrely perfect; a softness in Nozomi’s eyes, a surge of warmth in Eli’s chest, and they had surged forward together, lips brushing sweetly and shyly. The first kiss was easy; almost mundane. 

The second kiss is much harder. 

They’re sitting in the middle of Nozomi’s apartment. Eli’s face is hotter than it’s ever been. Nozomi, being darker, doesn’t color as easy, but the smile on her face is sheepish. The intent to do something, anything, hangs between them, unvoiced but nearly-palpable. Eli imagines that she can hear Nico's sugary-sweet voice in her ear cooing, "kiss the girl," and clenches her fists. 

This is unbelievably embarrassing. 

Eli’s breath is unsteady, and her hands feel… gross, slick with sweat and jittery with nerves. Nozomi, at least, is just as nervous as she is, although it’s a small comfort. Her eyes are flickering all over the room; every once in awhile, Nozomi will trap her lower lip between her teeth, before her irrepressible smile resurfaces once again. 

It’s so distracting. Nozomi’s too pretty, and her fingers itch to open up a Google browser. Can you die from blushing? Is this how Eli’s life is going to end? Are Arisa and Grandmother going to have to attend her funeral and read a eulogy? She can already hear Arisa’s sweet, high voice now:

Here lies Eli Ivanova Ayase, beloved granddaughter and sister, who died because she was too gay to kiss her girlfriend. May she rest in peace. 

God, that’d be embarrassing. That is not how she wants to leave the world. She has to do something. Anything. Have her experiences in Muse taught her nothing? Eli will chase after what she wants--and right now, what she wants is to lean in and have her second kiss with Nozomi Toujou.

Eli reaches out, cups Nozomi's warm cheek in her palm, and closes her eyes. Nozomi inhales sharply, and Eli's cheeks feel warm enough to roast eggs on as she puckers up and moves in. She bumps against something hard and wet–most certainly not a pair of lips–and Nozomi lets out a muffled squeak. Eli draws back, hand flying to her mouth. 

They stare at each other, eyes wide. Nozomi’s lips twitch, then a restrained laugh sputters out of her. Eli buries her face in her hands and, like a perfectly well-adjusted young woman, throws herself to the floor. 

“Elicchi, it’s okay!” 

“Noooo,” Eli moans. “Noooo!” 

A pair of arms circle her waist, and she’s pulled into a sitting position with her back to Nozomi’s front. Eli catches a brief, upside-down glimpse of Nozomi’s face before a curtain of dark hair obscures her vision. 

Nozomi presses her lips against her forehead, then trails a smattering of kisses across the rest of Eli’s face. She squirms, face burning. 

“Elicchi, it’s fine! You tried–” Nozomi lets out a wheeze, which then turns into a full-on giggle fit. Eli pouts. “–you tried so hard, oh my goodness–oh, Elicchi, don’t get up, don’t!” 

“Just let it go, Nozomi; the past is in the past!” She rolls out of Nozomi’s grasp, but the other girl is persistent, clinging to the leg Eli foolishly left within her reach. Eli opens her mouth to say something else, but then a hand lands on her shoulder, pushing her down to the ground with gentle, insistent force. Nozomi crawls over her, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Eli shuts up.

“Oh, Elicchi, don't beat yourself up. Not every kiss is going to be perfect." Nozomi settles herself along the length of Eli's body, and her brain short-circuits as Nozomi props herself up on an elbow. "And that's fine, because ya' know what that means?” 

Is that a rhetorical question? Eli hopes it is, because the gleam in Nozomi’s eyes glues Eli's tongue to the roof of her mouth, stealing away any forthcoming, much less intelligent, response. Nozomi's lashes are long and dark, and--and she's playing coy, twisting a flyaway lock of blonde hair between her fingers. There’s a different kind of warmth suffusing Eli’s face now, the heat of embarrassment driven away by something even more intense. 

“Wh-what?” Eli rasps, which makes Nozomi’s smile grow even wider. Oh. Oh, boy. 

“Practice makes perfect, Elicchi," Nozomi says, and leans down.


	2. nozoeli--cataglottism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people make out on the couch all the time, right?

One kiss turns into two, two kisses turn into three, and after three kisses, Eli and Nozomi forget chastity and leap straight into make-out zone.

Eli’s couch is hardly the most comfortable place to do this, but there’s no denying that it’s appropriate. They press into each other, as eager as teenagers playing party games--Nozomi's clever fingers trace the waistline of Eli's jeans, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath, nosing along the line of Nozomi's jaw. 

Eli is wrapped up in Nozomi’s arms, fully engrossed in tracing the links of Nozomi’s spine when the lock clicks. A key turns, and Eli freezes, horrified, as Alisa steps through the door, Yukiho’s arm looped through her own.

“Big sis!” Alisa calls. She pokes her lovely blonde head into the living room. 

“Oh, fuck,” Nozomi says. With her mouth so engaged, it comes out more as a ‘mmm, rughk.’ 

“Oh, fuck,” Yukiho says, as well as a few other words Eli is sure Honoka would be horrified to know her little sister keeps in her vocabulary. 

Eli can’t say anything at all. Alisa stares at her. Eli stares back, keenly aware of the fact that Nozomi’s hands are. All. Over. Eli's. Body.

“I’ll come back later,” Alisa decides. She tugs Yukiho to her, hurries out the door, and doesn’t look back. 

“It was nice–um, have fun!” Yukiho calls, just before the door slams. The lock turns, and clicks, and they’re left alone again. 

“I want to die.” Eli decides, hands still and lifeless against Nozomi’s shoulder blades as her terrible, awful girlfriend buries her head into the crook of her shoulder and laughs, laughs, laughs.


	3. nozoeli: trembling hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some ppl are saying this is angsty but i?? don't see it are we looking at the same prompt

They leave Otonokizaka hand in hand. The sky is pink, the sun kissing it full of soft, gentle color. It’s not over for the nine of them–no, nowhere near over–but for Muse, it’s the end of the line. 

Nozomi’s fingers clench in Eli’s, pulling the two of them to a stop. Eli turns, a question on her lips. 

“Let’s take a picture, Elicchi.” There’s a plea in Nozomi’s eyes–and just how is she supposed to say no to that? Eli fumbles with her phone, tapping the camera app with a clumsy thumb. It’s chilly out, and warmth fades fast with the setting sun. But that’s fine–it’s getting colder, but there’s still enough light for one last, perfect photo. Eli swipes past the albums worth of pictures they’d taken that day, fingers brushing past Honoka’s wide grin, Hanayo’s crinkled eyes, Nico’s proud smirk. 

Nozomi presses into her, soft and warm and smelling of peaches and incense. Eli wraps an arm around her waist, lifts the phone with a trembling hand, and snaps the shot. Otonokizaka’s brick walls and cherry trees. Nozomi’s round face, sweet smile, and dimples. And somewhere, still in the school, the other seven members of Muse. The perfect backdrop for the most perfect three years of Eli’s life.


	4. tsuba+hono: one person gets [the other] sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tsubasa voice: i'd eat a moldy bagel if i thought it'd taste good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fic set in my friend thereforebucket's inked AU, which can be read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9117712

“I have no one to blame but myself,” Tsubasa says, spitting bile into the toilet. 

Honoka’s voice crackles through the phone, caught between laughter and pity. _“Definitely. Even I wouldn’t eat a two-week old pastry, you know? No matter how good it is.”_

“What can I say? I was hungry.” Tsubasa’s stomach lets out a rumbling groan, and she grips the toilet bowl, willing her stomach to settle. She swears that if she vomits again, nothing’ll come out but essential organs. She says as much when she can speak again. 

“Ew, gross.” Tsubasa can practically see Honoka’s nose scrunching, can imagine how the map of freckles dotting her face move with her smile. _“Hey, you gonna be able to sing tomorrow?”_

“Probably. The concert’s at night, and it’s not a very long one either.” Tsubasa flushes and rinses out her mouth. “Why do you ask?” 

_“Beeeecaaaause my lil’ sis is gonna be there with her cute kind-of-not-yet-girlfriend, and it’d be so sad if they had to cancel.”_

“What, and not a thought for your good friend Kira Tsubasa? I’m wounded.” 

_“Oh, you’ll be fine. I used to eat bad food all the time–I’d be sick for a while and Umi would be so mad, but I was always okay by the next day.”_

Tsubasa rolls her eyes even though Honoka can’t see. But bless her soul–the woman always seems to know just when to give a little push. “If you go to bed early tonight and rest up, I’ll give you something good the next time you drop by.” 

“You drive a hard bargain. What kind of ‘something’ are we talking about here?” Tsubasa can practically feel Honoka’s smile through the phone and from across the country. 

_“A box of fruit tarts–I know how much you love ‘em–and a couple of new pies I’ve been trying out! Free of charge–as long as you give a good show tomorrow, tiger.”_

“Tiger? That’s a new one. So’s the bribery, actually.” Tsubasa teases, sticking a toothbrush in her mouth. 

_“Hey, if I didn’t bribe you, you wouldn’t go to bed until you can barely keep your eyes open! Why are so many of my friends like this, geez…”_

“You’re surrounded by workaholics, Kousaka. Fact.” 

_“I can’t hear you–are you brushing your teeth? Are you about to go to bed? Oh man, it actually worked! I should bribe you more often.”_

“For free Homura pastries, I’d do anything.” Tsubasa pockets her phone. “Well, I’m heading to bed, just like you wanted.” 

_“Feel better, Tsubasa! See what going to bed at a normal time gets you? A box of free pastries and two pies! Give me a heads up the next time you visit the city so I make ‘em fresh for you, though.”_

“Oh, I’ll definitely be stopping by soon. Not just for the free pastries though–there’s this cute baker I want to see, I don’t know if you’ve heard of her?” Honoka laughs, and Tsubasa grins, nearly bouncing off the over-stuffed hotel bed when she jumps onto it. “I need to tell her she has nice buns.” 

_“Cute baker, huh? Sounds familiar. I think she’d love to hear that.”_ Something crinkles on the other end, and Tsubasa imagines Honoka twirling a lock of her hair around her finger, imagines her in front of her fridge, idly daydreaming about what she’ll have for breakfast tomorrow. _“Anyways–night, Tsubasa. Feel better!”_

“Night Kousaka–see you soon.”


	5. nozoeli, hogwarts AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts AU: Eli's going home for winter break. Nozomi isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's really not as angsty as it soundsd

“Will you be alright?” Eli asks, taking her hands. Nozomi runs a thumb over Eli’s knuckles, watches other students trickle out the doors of the Great Hall and into the winter cold. Alisa stands by the wall, saying her own goodbyes to her friends. 

“It’ll only be for a month, Elicchi.” Eli’s forehead wrinkles, the way it always does when people say things that she doesn’t believe. Nozomi wants to kiss away the furrow between her brows. She settles for lacing their fingers together instead, admiring the blue of Eli’s gloves against the dark of her skin. “I’ll have plenty of company at Hogwarts. Seriously, don’t worry about me! You haven’t seen your babushka in forever, right?” 

“But Nozomi…” 

“But _Elicchi…_ " 

Eli shakes her head. They have been friends for seven years now, in love for four, and Nozomi knows defeat when she sees it. “Alright, alright. But you’ll write me, won’t you? And I’ll write you. Every day.” 

“Every week. C’mon, don’t ya think you’re overdoing it? Poor Kirochka needs to enjoy her break too!” Nozomi presses a peck to Eli’s lips, ignoring her indignant squawk. Eli is her silly, anxious, dorky girlfriend, and Nozomi doesn’t care who sees. Eli might complain about propriety, but how could Nozomi ever be ashamed of being in love? 

Eli’s eyes rove over her face, taking her in. Her cheeks are still pink–she colors so easily, whether from embarrassment, heat, or cold. Nozomi loves her so much. “At least let me send you presents, then.” Eli’s lips press into a pout. “I’m going to buy every bear figurine I can find.” 

Nozomi startles, then laughs. “Wait, why bears?” 

“Bears are heavy. _Babushka_ always feeds Kirochka too much–she needs to fly it off, or she’ll get sick.” 

“I think _you_ work her too hard.” Eli giggles and Nozomi relishes the sound of it. They stand in comfortable silence, hand in hand, until Alisha waves her sister over, then out into the snow. 

Nozomi watches them go–and just like last year, and the one before, she does so with a smile.


	6. youriko, tutoring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was written before season 1 even ended and certainly before riko became a powerful, confident lesbian

You’s room is a cluttered mess.

Riko stares, horrified, as You hurriedly shoves her things into her closet by the armful. 

“Sorry, sorry, it’s not usually like this, I swear!” A snapback topples from the pile in You’s arms. Riko picks it up as You kicks her closet door shut. There’s a pin with a smiley face on it. “It’s just, Ruby and I got a lil’ excited yesterday about some new costume ideas, and–well, it kinda got away from us.” 

“I… no, don’t worry about it.” Riko hands the hat back to You. She puts it on backwards and grins, just slightly frazzled. The desk in the corner of You’s room is more or less clear–with just enough space for a workbook and scratch paper. There’s only one chair. Riko flushes. She’ll have to… sit on You’s bed. 

She is reluctant to admit, even to herself, that the thought fills her with the slightest burst of excitement. 

“Man, I’m real sorry.” You’s hands, warm and solid, settle on Riko’s shoulders. Riko jumps, and You moves one of her hands to rub her back, reassuring. “I asked you to come over an’ tutor me, and I don’t even clean up the room. You must think I’m a slob, huh?”

“It’s only bad timing, You, please don’t worry about it.” Riko brushes her fingers over You’s, the barest of feather-light touches. The hand on her shoulder squeezes. “I’m just worried that the state of your room might distract you from studying.” 

“Huh?” You moves away, and Riko breathes just a little easier. “Oh, well now that you mention it… this ain’t exactly a good place to think, huh?” 

“No, it’s not. But rather than waste time cleaning it all up…” Riko looks around. There’s a uniform draped over the top of You’s cabinet, and a truly worrying amount of cloth strewn around the room. It’s a whirlwind of messiness. Riko’s room is neat and open to the point of being sterile. There would be no distractions there, and having You in her room is… is a very, very appealing thought, though Riko flushes to imagine it. 

The words are on the tip of her tongue. You really would benefit from studying with Riko, in a cleaner, less distracting environment. It’s still early enough for them to catch the bus and still have time to study before You has to return. Or, maybe You could even stay over! The test is an important one, after all. Chika, who is surprisingly studious, has locked her balcony door and hasn’t been seen for days. As much as Riko adores Chika, she’s excited for a chance to be alone with You–just be the two of them, for once. 

Riko’s mind and heart race, and she wants to ask. ‘Why don’t we study together at my house?’ Only a few words–she can do it. 

Riko clears her throat, smiling to will away her thundering pulse. “Why don’t… why don’t I clean up your room for you, while you review the material?” 

Her voice doesn't crack. _A roaring success._

You frowns. “Um. Are you sure? I mean, you’re already tutoring me, I’ll feel bad if you clean up my room to boot…” 

“Absolutely.” Riko’s smile feels pasted on. It’s too late to go back. She will walk this road until she expires, at last, from her own embarrassment. “The most important thing is that you do well on the test, so you won’t need any retakes, okay? Just leave this to me.” 

You rubs the back of her neck, smiling at Riko from under her lashes. “Man, you’re too nice to me, Riko. But, alright!” She salutes. “I won’t let you down! Let’s get down to business!” 

“Yes, lets!” You’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Riko starts picking up around the room. She may have failed now, but there’ll always be next time. 

Riko saw the work in You’s textbook. Without a doubt, there’ll be more study dates. And then, maybe, Riko will have the courage to say what she wants to say. 

Just maybe.


	7. niconozoeli; please don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico loves them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't remember publishing this on tumblr, but it's in my docs anyways?? wild. and also very, very melodramatic.

Nozomi always, always, always smiles when she looks at her. 

Nico can’t stand it. 

Eli’s hair swirls around her head like glitter in a jar as she rushes out the door, throwing goodbye’s and wiggling fingers behind her for Nozomi and Nico to catch. The very last trace of gold is chased by Nozomi’s genial: “See ya, Elicchi!” Nozomi’s eyes warm, her mouth hooks, and deep dimples crease her cheeks. Nico’s chest burns at the sight. 

“Well, there she goes,” she sighs, twirling her pencil between her fingers. The paint on her nails are chipping. Nico will recoat them after the kids go to bed tonight—meaning that for the remainder of this study session, she can pick the paint into a little pile of pink flakes and not feel even a little bad for it. Scraping at her nails is a real nasty habit. Definitely unbecoming of an idol. 

“Always in a hurry, Elicchi.” Nozomi shakes her head, the sway of her hair catching Nico’s wandering mind. There’s a world of fondness etched across her face: in the way her lashes fan down over her cheeks, the softness in her eyes, and of course, that stupid smile that makes Nico’s heart feel like it’s being strangled by brambles. 

“Yeah,” she manages to choke out. “Hope Alisa’s okay.” She likes Alisa. Her eyes—paler than Eli’s, a mild spring day to Eli’s blue raspberry—had gone wide when she’d first seen Nico, and she’d bounced on eager feet to shove a scrap of paper and a pen into her hands. Alisa reminds Nico of her siblings, just a little bit—and besides, she’s a fan! Nico loves her fans. 

Nozomi rolls her cheek into her palm. Her eyes are heavily-lidded. Hersmile crinkles her eyes up like a cat blinking kisses, and Nico chest burns as though she’s gulped down too-hot tea. But for once Nozomi’s polite enough not to mention the haste with which Nico rips her eyes away, and she reaches out with one soft, dark hand to tap against Nico’s homework. 

“How’s it going, Nicocchi? Got the hang of it?” 

“It’s comin’ along.” 

“Remember, if you get really desperate, just write your choices on your pencil and let fate decide. The cards are on your side!” Nozomi strikes some weird pose, pointing her index fingers at Nico. Her smile finally falters when Nico doesn’t so much as grumble. “Nicocchi?” 

“What?” Her heart is strangled by thorns and her voice has teeth. Nico is snippy today; whatever well of patience and good-will she usually draws from has run dry. Math is stupid, Eli’s pretty face is stupid, and Nozomi’s smile is especially stupid. And Nico feels stupid, for feeling like this. She’s had bad days before. What’s so different about this one that makes her feel like her smile and Nico-Nico charm have gone under? Jeez. It’s not like she’s Cotaro, too little to know better and still small enough to justify tantrums—or stubborn, stubborn Maki. 

Nozomi tilts her head at her. Nico glowers up at her through her bangs, still rolling the pencil between her fingers. Nozomi watches some more with eyes that are translucent in the late afternoon light. 

Stupid. Nozomi smiles at her again: the same hooked mouth, blinking eyes, and creased cheeks. Nico snaps. 

“God, can you just stop? Stop it!” Nico rocks herself back in her seat, taking vindictive pleasure in the grind of metal against wood. The chair wobbles with Nico in it. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t—don’t look at me like you look at Eli!” 

“Nicocchi?” Nozomi’s mouth is a little ‘O’. Nico snarls, then presses the back of her hand to her mouth as if she could wipe the bitter curl of her lips away. She shouldn’t do that. She feels horrible for even snapping like this. Nico’s more bark than bite; but this? This is like handing Nozomi a rose and then wrapping her hands around the stem, so that the thorns bite into her soft, soft palm. 

Nico hates it. 

”Just don’t, okay?” she hisses, half-pleading, half-venomous. “I can’t stand it. I can’t take it. You look at her like she’s the sun, and then you look at me like that and—” Nico bites her lip. “... What am I supposed to think of that, Nozomi?”

“Nicocchi…” 

“And. And, and, and—there’s no way you don’t know.” Nico’s laugh rings hollow in her ears. “C’mon, there’s just no way. You have to know: how I feel about Eli, the way I feel about her—is just the same as you.” 

Nozomi sits there, eyes wide. Her dark cheeks are darker now, flushed with; what? Embarrassment? Something like that, anyways. Something that makes Nico feel like she’s just gotten punched in the gut. 

If she had an ounce less self-respect, she’d do something drastic. Something to prove her point, make the warmth that blooms in her chest whenever she sees Nozomi smile more concrete. If she were just a little, little bit braver, she’d lean over the table and press her snarl to Nozomi’s soft lips, always curved as if in a smile. If she were just a little bit of either, Nico would admit to herself that the burning in her chest wasn’t jealousy or irritation at all. 

She loves them both. She loves them both. 

But since when do things like that ever work out? Nico scoops her things up in her arms and rushes from the room. She drops a pencil, but doesn’t bother to pick it up. Let someone else have it. That’s her one good deed of the day. 

Nozomi’s voice chases her out the door: “Nicocchi, wait! Nicocchi, hold on! Nicocchi!” 

And Nico runs.

**Author's Note:**

> a collection of tumblr prompts from.... tumblr


End file.
